


and you will finally know what love is supposed to feel like.

by vikkyarvidsson



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: (kind of?), Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ottawa Senators, Pining, Slow Build, brady teaches tim what it means to be a Man(TM), brief mention of mo because I love him, in which brady is very aware of how bad his team is, josh is the ultimate wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vikkyarvidsson/pseuds/vikkyarvidsson
Summary: "one day you will meet someone who will see the universe that was knitted into your bones, and the embers of galaxies glow to life in your eyes. and you will finally know what love is supposed to feel like."orthe one where brady tkachuk realizes a lot of things about tim stützle.
Relationships: Tim Stützle/Brady Tkachuk, Tim Stützle/Lukas Reichel (past relationship)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	and you will finally know what love is supposed to feel like.

**Author's Note:**

> hi so I originally wrote this in BBCode, stand by while the coding is being fixed pls and thx xoxo also if you see typos no you didn't

Brady hadn’t really looked into this Stützle kid too much.

Like, he had watched the draft night, sure, and he gave Tim a quick follow on Instagram. But he had never really seen him play. He trusted the scouts, he didn’t feel like he had to pretend to know what he was doing by watching every single prospect. He was just happy the Senators had some top 5 picks. And if Tim was third overall, then he had to be good, right?

It wasn’t actually his idea to get this kid to move in with him anyway. Josh was all him, though. Josh was someone he _had_ seen play. He was closer to Brady in many ways, even though they hadn’t had time to get acquainted. Tim, though… Well, he was just some kid from Germany. The next Leon Draisaitl, Brady supposed. And although he couldn’t be too mad that the next Draisaitl was playing for Ottawa, he was a bit skeptical about letting some random German kid move in with him before the two ever met. 

But Pierre Dorion gets what he wants, when he wants. And what he wants is for Tim Stützle to have excellent chemistry with the leaders on this team. Who was Brady to tell him no?

-

The first time Brady did see Tim play was at the World Juniors. He was rooting for the U.S., of course, and keeping a close eye on Sanderson, but he tuned in to watch the Canada and Germany game, since that was the talk of the town in Ottawa.

Brady winced a lot during that game.

He definitely knew what it was like to get lit up like that. Maybe not that bad, and maybe not from the perspective of a captain, but as the camera flashed to Tim’s face, showing a boy who was heartbroken, distraught, and disappointed- well, Brady could sympathize. The Senators weren’t exactly in the best position, so he knew. 

Josh, a fellow American, and not exactly Canada’s number one fan either, made a noise of disgust as Canada scored their 6th goal of the evening. “Geez,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Poor Tim,”

“Yeah,” Brady nodded in agreement, pausing for a second. “Poor Tim.”

-

The tournament was over for Tim. Everyone knew that, barring a crazy miracle where Leon Draisaitl somehow qualifies for the World Juniors, team Germany wasn’t going to make it past the quarter finals. It was nothing to be ashamed of- Brady certainly wasn’t going to poke fun at Tim for it. As a die-hard team USA fan, he hoped the boys would avenge Germany by defeating Canada later down the line. It would give Tim and Sanderson something to bond over, anyway. Whenever Sanderson could go pro, at least.

And then Tim arrived in Ottawa, and Brady shot him a text. 

_Welcome to the nation’s capitol, bud_

It wasn’t exactly, _“hey, if Stepan hasn’t already actually adopted you, do you wanna maybe move into Mark Stone’s apartment and live with Josh and I?”_ , but it was a start.

_Thanks!_

A man of few words. Brady could respect that. Brady was often too talkative for his own good; it was a trait that both he and Matthew were blessed with. He often butted heads with loud people, but based on the interviews he saw during the World Juniors, Tim was polite and concise, so they’d probably get along great. Whatever they say about opposites attract, Brady supposed.

_Hey, if u don’t have anywhere to stay, there’s a free room at mine, ur welcome to move in_

It wasn’t exactly poetic, but Brady was an athlete, not a poet.

_That would be great. Text me the address?_

And then Tim sent his number, and for whatever reason, Brady’s heart raced.

Brady looked over his drafted text at least 10 times before finally sending it. All it was was the address, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop worrying that he was making a fool of himself. And if there was one thing Brady Tkachuk never worried about, it was making a fool of himself. He could act like a clown all day long and never think twice. So why was he so bothered now? 

-

Brady didn’t know why he expected Tim to not speak a lot of English. He had seen the interviews, but maybe part of him thought that they were scripted. But no, Tim spoke nearly perfect English. He didn’t pick up on Brady’s sarcasm at first, but Brady quickly decided that the confused look on his face was cute- cute enough to want to test the limits a little bit. 

“So, this is your room, right next to mine,” For whatever reason, Brady’s breath hitched just a little after he said that. He opened the door with his palm, revealing a decent sized room with nothing but a bed and a dresser in there. “It’s been the guest room for a while now, but you can probably guess that we don’t have a lot of guests over,” And it was meant as a joke, but Tim only hummed and set his stuff down by the door. 

“Bigger than my hotel room,” He noted, probably more to himself than to Brady. Brady felt bad, because he knew how hotel conditions could be. In the best situations, you had a decent room, access to restaurants, and an amazing view. Given the state of the world, Brady was almost positive that Tim didn’t stay in something so luxurious. 

Coughing to break the silence, Brady shuffled where he stood. “If, uh, if you need someone to help you unpack… you know where my room is. Or Josh could probably help, if you’d rather-” He decided to cut himself off, because his big mouth was getting the better of him, and that was never a good sign. “Yeah. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” It wasn’t like Tim had much to unpack anyway. Just a few suitcases, mostly filled with clothes, Brady assumed. 

Brady entered his own room, pressing his back against his door, and signed. Who knew that some German kid, not even 19 yet, would be the most anamouring person Brady had ever seen. 

A light tap came to his door, and Brady half hoped it was Tim. But when he opened it, he was met with Josh instead, and he must have been a little bit too visible about his disappointment, because Josh feigned offense. “Wow, sorry I’m not a curly haired German with bright blue eyes and a dashing smi-” Brady tugged Josh into his room and shut the door, effectively shutting something else while he was at it; Josh’s mouth, which would get him into more trouble than Brady’s own.

“He’s literally right next door,” Brady hissed, gesturing to the wall that separated the two. “And am I that obvious, because I thought I composed myself pretty well,” 

Josh chuckled, shaking his head. “You really think that people will believe that a Tkachuk brother lost his urge to run his mouth and developed a stutter overnight? No way, dude. You’re totally gone for this guy, who, by the way, you didn’t even want in our apartment a week ago,” 

“ _My_ apartment,” Brady corrected.

“ _Mark Stone’s_ apartment, if we’re really getting technical,” Josh chimed in, which earned him a pout, but he wasn’t wrong. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask what you want for dinner. Maybe I should invite Tim in here so that the two of you can discuss your favorite foods on your bed and deliberate about the best fast food restaurants in town,” Judging by the too cheeky grin on Josh’s face, Brady knew he wasn’t kidding, he absolutely would do that.

“Oh my God, don’t,” Brady grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, whatever Tim wants is fine. It should be his call, anyway, after flying over here,”

Josh rubbed Brady’s head, beaming at him. “Spoken like a true boyfriend,” And before Brady could find something snarky to say in return, Josh walked out, making a turn to Tim’s room. 

-

Tim was definitely a force to play with, that’s for sure. When Brady’s shift was over and Tim hopped onto the ice, his eyes were glued to him. Brady followed him around all the way across the rink, watching his every move. And when he scored in his second game, well, Brady was watching that with just as much intensity. 

Tim didn’t have a license to drive in Canada, and even if he did, he didn’t have a car, so he and Josh just carpooled with Brady. Brady didn’t mind, he liked the company, and it saved the gas. The night before, Tim had been exceedingly silent, sticking his headphones in his ears and staring blankly out the window. Tim hadn’t scored that night. But today was a new day, and Tim had scored a goal, his _first_ goal. Even without the win, Tim was still a bit giddy, and just because Josh was nice, he let him sit in the front seat next to Brady. 

“Still high off that goal, huh?” Brady asked, nudging Tim’s bouncing knee with the palm of his hand. Tim smiled dopely at him, eyes bright, and Brady had to make a mental note to keep his eyes on the road and not stare off into the sea of sparkling blue that were Tim’s eyes. 

He nodded, flashing his teeth at Brady. Tim had small lips that were shaped weirdly, so his smile was a bit strange, but it fit his face so perfectly, and Brady almost wanted to tell him that it was the most beautiful smile in the world, but he’d hold his tongue for now. Besides, it wasn’t like Tim wasn’t smiling almost 24/7 anyway. It was going to be Brady’s demise, but also his most sacred thought. 

“It’s exciting, I still can’t believe it,” His accent was thick, and Brady could feel his neck heating up the more he thought about it.

“Sorry we couldn’t get the win for you, kid,” Was all Brady managed as he bit the inside of his cheek. He had run this scenario through his head ten times over the night before- how perfect Tim’s first goal would be. Tim wasn’t stupid, Brady knew he must have realized what he was coming into. This wasn’t the ideal situation. This was no New York Rangers, or not even the LA Kings. This was Ottawa, the worst of all Canadian teams. And it was Brady’s team, and he was damn proud to play for it, but he knew how it felt to be a rookie coming into one of the worst situations imaginable. Tim deserved a damn win for his first goal. He deserved his happy ending. He was too good of a hockey player to be deprived of it. And yet he played for Ottawa. If Brady could make this team play better for Tim, he would, because Tim _deserved it_.

But Tim, ever so politely, shook his head. “Not your fault, or anyone’s,” He was too modest, Brady thought. Too humble. And while Brady appreciated someone so genuine, because that wasn’t something very common in hockey players, he could only hope that energy never faded. The media, the fans, the other players… They could all take that away from you in a heartbeat. Brady never wanted to see that happen to Tim. 

“Thanks, kid,” Brady offered, small smile on his face, but he didn’t mean it. 

“C’mon, Brady, he’s hardly a kid. He just turned 19. He’s practically a man now!” Josh announced from the back seat, reaching up to slap a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Brady could see Tim flinch slightly, but the smile on his face let him know that he wasn’t bothered at all. 

Brady snorted. “There’s still a lot more he needs to experience before he’s a man,” He joked, eyes remaining fixated on the road this time. 

“Yeah? Like what?” And Tim didn’t mean that in a challenging way, it sounded more just like he didn’t pick up on Brady’s joking tone. But maybe Brady did mean something more. Maybe- maybe his words had a secret meaning behind them. He just couldn’t say it. Not in front of Josh, let alone to Tim’s face at all. 

So Brady shrugged, acting like it was no big deal. “Lots of stuff, in time,” He told him, and he was just grateful that Tim seemed to sit on that pondering his words, rather than prodding more. Or maybe Tim figured out that Brady didn’t have a real answer for him; at least not one that he was going to give away. 

-

Just as Brady had put the awkward conversation from the car behind him, even though Josh poked his head into Brady’s room to tell him that he was _real bad_ at this flirting shit, his door opened. “Jesus, Josh, you know how to knock,” Brady said, back turned. The cough let him know it was not Josh. “Oh, sorry, I thought-”

“What else do I need to experience?” It wasn’t an innocent question. This time, Tim _was_ challenging him. “Like you said earlier. What?”

“I was joking,” Brady offered, but it wasn’t very genuine. Tim saw right through it, and the stern look on his face let Brady know that. 

“Do you think I’m a virgin or something?” And, wow, Tim was very, _very_ forward. “Or that I’ve never drank, or done drugs, or-”

“Woah, kid, okay, you don’t need to give me your rap sheet or something, there’s nothing to prove, no judgement,” Brady tossed his arms up, eyebrows raised. And, in truth, no, he did not think Tim had ever done those things. “Is that what you think being a man is, anyway?” Which was meant as a joke, but then Tim looked sheepish, and- oh. Right. He was just barely 19, a thousand miles away from home, in a completely different culture, and his only impression of North America was through TV. So… Yeah, Tim was a bit naive. It was cute, but someone had to be the one to tell him. “Tim…” Brady sighed, letting his body drop down onto his bed. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning Tim to come and sit. 

Brady puckered his lips, thinking for a moment. Matthew had given him this conversation, but he wasn’t very good at it, and it was more just like _”don’t be a douche, get your head out of your ass, time to be responsible”_. Their parents gave them pointers about keeping up with bills and taxes and whatever else, and veteran players taught them how to grocery shop, and common sense taught Brady not to blow all of his money on shit clothes that he’d hardly ever wear. 

Tim wasn’t like him though. He wasn’t a big headed jerk. He wasn’t irresponsible and he wasn’t a pest. He was a good, honest kid, albeit a bit confused. “Just… Look, man, there’s a lot more to life than that bullshit. Like, you meet people, and form relationships, and you get to live life now, you know?” And, fuck, Brady was probably doing worse than Matthew. “And you’re going to get some new experiences now that you’re in the show, different from ones you’ve had before, and life is gonna come at you fast, so, you know, in time,” Which was vague, and Brady could only offer an even vaguer hand wave to finish it off. 

Tim looked confused, and Brady couldn’t blame him. “We’re in a pandemic, not sure how many _relationships_ I’ll be forming,” And he almost sounded… Disappointed. That’s right, his rookie season was worse than others. Not only does he play for Ottawa, but he doesn’t get to experience it like everyone else. No roaring crowds, no fans throwing themselves at you, no intense media. There were pros and cons to all of those things. 

Then Brady had an idea. “You wanna meet people? I’ll introduce you to my brother,” He snorted, nudging Tim. 

“You think he’ll like me?” _How could he not, everyone likes you._

“Yeah, kid, I think he will,”

-

Being in the dressing room with Tim was something else. Tim still lacked some confidence around the boys. He didn’t seem to like when someone tried to talk to him while he got dressed, and he avoided being seen naked as if it was the plague. Not that Brady was trying to eyeball Tim while he was naked, that wasn’t the point, it was just something he noticed.

He was gangly, awkward, and he could barely get his jersey over his head without shaking. As he went to button up his shirt after a particularly nasty game, his fingers fumbled over the buttons, and he couldn’t seem to slip them through the hole.

Without thinking, Brady shot up, getting knocked out of his trance. “Let me help,” It wasn’t an offer, it was a statement. Brady was going to help.

He strode over to Tim, gripped the white fabric between his fingers, and took his time working his was up the shirt until he stopped at Tim’s neck. Tim liked to keep the top few unbuttoned, that was another thing. His hands lingered for a moment, gripping the material still, but then he let go, hands hovering near Tim’s collarbone. 

“Need me to tie your tie too?” It was a joke, but Tim whimpered, cheeks red. Brady decided that his cheeks were red because he was 19 years old and his roommate just buttoned his shirt, and not because Brady was so close to him, getting him dressed, and talking in a low voice that was meant for Tim’s ears only. So Brady buttoned the top few buttons, tugged the tie snuggly around Tim’s neck, and got to work on tying it. Brady knew after watching Tim’s draft day documentary (which he did with headphones on, because it would be embarrassing to let Tim know that he was watching videos about him) that his mother tied his bowtie that night. Tim was atrocious at tying ties himself. 

“Hey, lovebirds,” Chabot piped up from across the room, and Brady was entirely ashamed that he looked up immediately. In his defense, however, so did Tim. “Young love is cool and all, but we have to get back to the hotel, you know,” 

“On our way,” Brady hollered back, opting to ignore the first half of that. When he looked back, however, Tim was blushing even harder. 

Brady didn’t mention it as he stepped back, let his eyes graze over Tim once more, grabbed his stuff, and then left.

-

Josh tsked at him. “You and your German problem,” He shook his head, eyes glued to whatever cheap video game he was playing. “It’s stressing you out, man. Have you tried talking to him? It’s not like he’ll bite your head off.”

In theory, Josh was right. Tim was an understanding guy. It was Brady that was the issue.

“I don’t _have_ a ‘German problem’, thank you,” Brady pouted, arms crossed over his chest. Brady was not used to this whole keeping his emotions to himself bullshit. He let everyone know how he was feeling all the time. If he was mad, he punched something. If he was happy, he got loud and cracked jokes. If he was in love, he flirted shamelessly. That was just who Brady was. 

Something about Tim, Brady didn’t know what, changed him. He didn’t want to be obnoxious, and he didn’t want to be angry, and he didn’t want to be an asshole. Unless he was beating the shit out of someone to defend Tim’s honor, then he could be an angry asshole all he wanted to be. And judging by the gentle smile Tim offered him from the ice, Brady knew he had done something right. That’s all he wanted to do- he wanted to do shit right for Tim. He wanted everything to be perfect _for Tim_. Damn shame that he broke everything he touched and was only ever good for being a screw up, except when it came to his hockey.

Josh tsked again. “You’re in denial, bro, that’s why you’re so stressed,” He was right. The stress wasn’t good for Brady. It was all he could think about. Everyday, he was tripping over his feet, wanting to impress Tim, or worried that he was being too obvious. 

“I am not in denial,” Brady snapped, not meaning to. “I don’t have an issue.”

“He’s single, by the way,” Josh offered, which made Brady perk up. Brady immediately turned an embarrassing shade of red as he realized how damn desperate he looked. Josh laughed. “I think, anyway. Someone told me that Seider told Veleno that Tim had something going on in Germany- some Lukas Reichel kid? Whatever, dude got a girlfriend, they’re still good friends though, I think. Point is, doesn’t seem like he’s off the market, so you’ve got a good a shot as any, if it’s any solace to you,” 

“I didn’t know he liked guys,” Brady mumbled as he pulled out his phone to check this dude’s Instagram. The name, Reichel, sounded familiar. Blackhawks draftee. Right. He clicked on the profile and then immediately let out a disappointed noise. “Dude looks like a real life prince charming. I’m not Tim’s type, I think,”

“It’s one guy, that’s hardly having a type,” Josh pointed out. “And unlike you, I did my research. These German guys, they’re as tight-knit as they come, been playing together for years. So it seems more like they’re childhood friends who happened to catch feels and then decided they’re better just staying bros. And if you’re so worried about it, DM Lukas and ask for pointers, because clearly he knows what Tim likes, and if you knew better than him, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation,”

It wasn’t a bad idea, maybe a little embarrassing, but Brady didn’t carry a lot of shame around with him, if that wasn’t obvious. 

-

“He doesn’t like the extravagant,” Lukas told him over the phone. “Tim is classy, but he doesn’t like always being the center of attention. Sometimes, but he prefers quality over quantity,” 

Brady wrote that down on a little notepad, which he thought was obsolete, but his phone was currently in use. “Okay, what’s his type?”

“Uh,” Lukas pondered, shifting his phone around, which Brady assumed he was propping it up against something. “Hard to say. Germans are different from Americans usually, so I don’t know,”

“Well, what are you like? He must have seen something in you,” Brady didn’t mean for that to sound like an insult, and he was grateful when Lukas let out a hearty laugh. 

“Yeah, I’m not like you at all, I guess. I’m normal, I’d say. It was the long distance thing that really told us this wasn’t going to work, but he and I, we mostly spent time together just hanging out in our rooms and stuff. We’re both pretty chill, so there wasn’t really a conflict of interest, I think that’s how you say it,” Which is exactly what Brady was afraid of, because at the end of the day, Brady was truly nothing like Tim, and he was nothing like Lukas. He was Brady Tkachuk, which was a personality of its own.

“Right,” Brady sighed, nodding to himself. At this rate, he should just assume that Tim sees nothing in him. “Has he said anything about me? You don’t have to say- I mean, I know, it’s his call to tell me but- do you know if he likes me as a person?” He sounded desperate again. Brady just needed a sign. Anything.

Lukas smirked at him. “Yeah, he likes you. As a person.” Maybe Brady was reading too far into it, but it sounded more like a hint than an insult. 

-

A few losses weighed heavy on Tim. It weighed heavy on everyone, but at least most other guys were used to the consistent losses. Tim was new to this kind of disappointment. 

Brady was walking back from the kitchen, and something compelled him to look over, to see through the crack in Tim’s door, which Brady has learned is an open invitation for anyone to come in. Tim leaves his door cracked when he wants attention but is too afraid to say anything. 

Tim was laying face up on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Brady and Josh would never tell anyone this, but he had a small collection of a handful of stuffed animals sitting on the corner of his bed. It was cute. Every guy who came into the league had something they took with them, be it for superstition, comfort, whatever. And if Tim’s thing was going to be a few old stuffed animals and a Squishmallow, then, well, whatever was going to get him points each night. If that was helping him play, Brady wasn’t going to chirp him for it. And even if that wasn’t it, well, Brady still wouldn’t. 

“You okay?” Brady asked, flopping down next to him. Tim didn’t care much about personal space. He had his moments where he wanted to be alone, and then his moments where he was practically on top of Brady. 

“Just tired,” Tim hummed, not moving to look at Brady. Brady wanted to tell him that he could finish his sentence, say that he was tired of losing, tired of playing for a bad team, but he wasn’t going to push it. So he nodded, even though Tim couldn’t see. 

“Yeah,” He offered, eyes not leaving Tim’s face. Tim must have felt him staring, because he rolled over to look at Brady, eyes sad and heavy as he gazed at him. 

“You’re right,” Tim said after a moment, entirely unprompted. Brady’s breath hitched, and the confused look on his face made Tim continue. “I’m not a man. I don’t feel like one at all,” 

“That’s still not what makes someone a man, Tim,” He chuckled, hand rubbing soft circles into Tim’s arm. “Anything I can help with?” 

Tim looked as though he was debating it, chewing on the inside of his lip. His eyes glanced away from Brady as he pondered, and Brady thought that maybe if he stared at him long enough, he’d be able to read Tim’s mind. He wanted to say that Tim shouldn’t hesitate to ask, because Brady would harness the sun at Tim’s request. He’d do anything. 

“Kiss me?” Tim finally blurted out, and Brady couldn’t read his face at all. Sometimes guys said stuff like that as a joke, and Brady was good at reading jokes. That’s who Brady was- he made jokes. Tim had opened up a more serious side to him, a side that wanted to impress and prove that he could be mature and not just some rat. Brady wanted to look good in front of Tim- he wanted Tim to like him. Because straight laced kids like Tim Stützle didn’t hang out with the bad boys like Brady, and certainly they didn’t want to kiss him. 

“Yeah?” Brady choked out, like he was scared of something. Tim never moved, didn’t even flinch, he just sat there, waiting on a definitive answer. So Brady propped himself up on an elbow, and Tim followed suit, eyes never leaving his. Brady decided he had done enough stalling, Tim seemed dead serious, and he had nothing else to lose. Not like another team wouldn’t want him when he requested a trade after experiencing the reject of the century. 

But a trade request wouldn’t be necessary. Brady knew that because they leaned in at the same time, and their lips met, and everything locked into place. Something unspoken, some chemistry that was there all along, had been resolved, and suddenly- suddenly Brady felt more complete. More complete than the first time he tugged on a Senators jersey, more complete than his first goal, more complete than getting an A. He felt like something just locked into place, and the stars had all aligned, and all was right in the world. For just a moment, he wasn’t Brady Tkachuk, professional hockey player, living in the middle of a global pandemic, playing for a disappointment of a team, dragging his feet everywhere he went. He was just a boy, sitting on the bed of another, even cuter boy, and kissing him. And all was right in the world.


End file.
